


Just Cat Things

by yodepalma



Series: The Path of Flame [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animagus, Crack, Crossover, Dumbledore Is Not Impressed, Fluff, Gen, Headcanon, M/M, Maes Hughes Lives, McGonagall Does Cat Things, Not Beta Read, POV Multiple, Side Story, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva McGonagall is a former Auror, a stern professor, and a formidable witch. It just so happens that sometimes she's also a cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dumbledore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabble/gifts).



> This is my actual favorite headcanon.
> 
> Set immediately after the prologue of _The Path of Flame_ , but feel free to ignore that it's part of a series and just enjoy McGonagall being a cat.
> 
> I will _probably_ be writing more Cat!McGonagall stories, so I figure I'll just add chapters to this one when I do. Don't hold your breath on them, though. XD

_Just Cat Things_

Albus allowed himself a weary sigh as he entered his office, yearning for bed even as he prepared himself to finish his tasks for the night. He had supplies to gather for the major still, and owls to send to the Ministry to explain just why a foreign official would be gaining custody of their precious savior. Albus wasn't certain he liked the situation himself. Was it right for him to leave the boy in such distant hands, where he wouldn't be able to look in on him himself? Not to mention that the poor young man had so recently returned from the battlefield. There really was no telling if Mustang was emotionally prepared for the task of raising a child, but what choice did he really have? Voldemort wasn't really dead, not if the prophecy was to be believed, and Harry’s survival was tantamount. If he was a little bit neglected, well, that was something they could take care of once the child came to Hogwarts. It might even turn out in his favor, in fact, considering what he'd have to ask Harry to do....

But that was in the future. Right now he had to purchase a small supply of diapers and formula—perhaps he'd send Severus for it—then talk Fudge down from making Harry a ward of the state, and, most urgently, deal with the cat in his room.

Albus slowly closed the door and narrowed his eyes at the tabby on the far side of the room. The cat narrowed her eyes back, tail twitching once. When he took a step forward, the cat leisurely got to her feet, stretched luxuriously with all of her claws out, and stepped daintily over to the most expensive and breakable sensor on his tables. She batted at it curiously with one paw, making it wobble slightly, and then sat back on her haunches. Not once during this entire procedure did she take her eyes away from his own.

“Don't,” Albus said, very softly and with complete calm. The cat immediately started licking at her shoulder, an innocent relaxation to her posture. Taking that as agreement, he took a few steps across the room to save the instrument; the cat, instantly alert, was on her feet again with one paw poised to bat at the sensor again.

“Minerva,” Albus said in his sternest voice, not that this had ever worked. The cat’s tail twitched once, twice, and then she very deliberately pushed her new toy over the edge of the table. It landed with a tinkling crash and a little cloud of rainbow sparks, and she sat back on her haunches again. She still hadn't lifted her gaze from Albus’s own, but Albus solved that by sighing again and closing his eyes as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

“Mreooooowwww,” the cat said in a reproving tone.

“I assure you that Major Mustang is a perfectly suitable guardian for the boy, Minerva,” Albus said tiredly, walking over to the chair behind his desk and collapsing on it. He pulled over some parchment to prepare his first letter, but the cat nimbly leapt on top of it. Albus glowered at her. She laid down on the parchment, tucking her paws up underneath her chest, and glowered right back. “Minerva, really. What purpose does this serve?”

“Meowww,” the cat replied.

Albus leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers in front of his face, regarding the cat with his most serious expression, but the cat just stared impatiently back at him. Nothing for it but an explanation, then.

“You are aware, of course, that I don't truly believe Voldemort is gone for good. The prophecy clearly says Harry is the only person who can defeat him, so his survival is of the most import. If Petunia were still alive, I would have left the boy with her, to take advantage of his mother's sacrifice, but in lieu of a living relative, the best I can do is to set him up with a family that's both powerful enough to protect him, and smart enough to outwit their opponents. Mustang is young, I admit, but you've heard the stories of what his alchemy can do. And Berthold always did have complaints about how clever and manipulative his young protégé was. If anybody will be capable of keeping Harry Potter alive, it will be him.”

The cat stared at him for a few more seconds before she relaxed and finally looked away—only to roll over onto her back and give him a beseeching look.

“I'm not falling for that trap again, Minerva,” Albus stated firmly. “Please get off my parchment. I need to contact the Minister to prepare Harry’s adoption papers.”

“Meooow?” the cat said mournfully, kneading at the air and looking far more adorable than a lady her age should be capable of. Albus gave in reluctantly, scratching the cat's head, and smiled as she flopped onto her side and started purring. She looked every inch the spoiled cat, such a complete juxtaposition to her normal demeanor that it was even cuter than it may have been otherwise.

“I wish I knew where your dignity went when you let yourself be a cat for extended periods,” Albus said seriously to his Deputy Headmistress. The cat continued purring, though her ears did twitch in his direction. “Do you think you might regain it long enough to pass a message on to Severus? I was hoping to send him out to purchase a few supplies to send to Amestris for Harry.”

The cat opened her eyes and regarded him with an amused expression before she rolled back to her feet and stretched again. Then, tail up and showcasing the dignity she'd forgone in favor of being petted, she made her way out of his closed office in the mysterious way of cats everywhere.

Albus smiled after her for a moment, then shook his head and turned back to his desk. A frown stole across his face. There was a neat collection of claw marks ruining his good parchment.


	2. Snape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly wasn't planning on posting this (I'm assuming there's still insomnia typos/mistakes), but I figured I'd might as well get it up before Winter Storm Jonas ruins my life. :3
> 
> This one is set more or less after chapter two of _The Children of Snakes_.

_Cat Things 2: Snape_

Severus couldn't help but sigh in relief as he finally let himself into his rooms at the end of the first full day of the semester. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the little beasts tried to make his life difficult on purpose. This year they'd all been clearly distracted by some new rumor about him—not the one of him being a vampire, he was sure, because _this_ rumor actually had quite a few of them giggling at him when they thought he wasn't paying attention! It was just a shame that Minerva had so recently banned him from punishing students for ridiculous things, because he was just itching to give someone a detention right now.

Throwing his notes onto the table, he allowed himself to collapse rather dramatically onto his couch, face shoved into the cushions and legs over the arm. It was a very comfortable couch, really, he probably should have thanked Albus for talking him into buying it. It was an excellent place to sleep. Not as nice as his bed, but who would know but him?

“Meowww.”

His eyes popped open. He turned his head to the side very slowly and, face still half shoved into the cushion, glared at the tabby cat that had crawled out from under his table.

“How,” he asked it in his most dire voice, because it made him feel better even if it never worked, “do you consistently manage to enter my rooms? I warded them myself. I shouldn't even have _mice_.”

“Mreow,” the tabby replied shortly, the smug look on her face an eerie replica of the one she wore when human. Then she leapt lightly onto Severus’s back and laid there.

“For Merlin’s sake, Minerva,” Severus sighed, long-suffering. “How was I ever stupid enough to mistake you for a dignified human being?”

The cat replied by calmly—and happily, judging by the purring—digging all of her claws into Severus’s shoulder blade, and proceeded to knead so hard he was sure to have bloody claw marks in the morning. Severus resolutely did not make the pathetic whimpering noise he wanted to, and instead reached across his back and tried to remove the cat by the scruff. Her claws dug in, and she gave a tiny little growl. There was a brief struggle. Severus was left remarkably unscathed, while the cat darted back under his table only to turn around and hiss at him.

“Don't give me that,” Severus snapped, kicking towards her hiding place. The cat knew full well that he would never actually kick her (because he wanted to live), and didn't even flinch. “I have no sympathy for a witch who won't even deliver her messages in a form that can be understood. _Especially_ when they try to claw me to death in the process!”

The cat growled, rather a bit louder than before.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. He was not going to admit he'd exaggerated and apologize, if that's what the blasted woman was waiting for. He had more dignity than to have that conversation with a _cat_.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Severus scowled at her, and the cat stared unblinkingly back. Every so often there was a soft “thump” as she hit her tail up against the table leg. Severus tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to fall asleep with another person in his room, he just wasn't, but surely it wouldn't hurt to relax a little....

There was a sudden scrabbling noise, but before Severus could jump up in alarm, twelve pounds of tabby landed in his lap, claws splayed and barely missing a certain sensitive area. He couldn't hold back his own high-pitched noise of pain, starting to curl in on himself in automatic self-defense. The cat put her paws on his chest and leaned up to lick his cheek once, purring.

“I am going to hex your fur to match Albus’s next robe!” he snarled, reaching for his wand, but the cat was already gone again, hiding underneath the chair this time. He could hear her purring contently. He eyed the glow of her eyes for a long moment, considering actually following through with his threat, but sat back with a sigh. It would be satisfying for a time, but he knew from experience that the Deputy Headmistress would get him back for it. With interest, and possibly dead bugs in his pillow.

Deciding he'd had enough of the infernal woman for the night, he got up from the couch and decided to start getting ready for bed. That was when he noticed the folded up bit of parchment flutter to the floor. He squinted at it suspiciously; was this a note she had confiscated from one of her students earlier in the day?

“Is this what you actually came here for?” he asked aloud.

“Mewww,” the cat replied, which sounded enough like an affirmative that he bent over and picked the paper up. He unfolded it neatly, and quickly read the short missive. To his horror, he could feel a blush spread rapidly across his face. Only Minerva McGonagall could still find a way to make him blush like a schoolboy.

“Is this some sort of joke?” he snapped. The cat’s purr raised in volume. “Of all the—the boy is _married_ , Minerva! Even if I was interested—and I most certainly am not—I would never even presume to—”

The cat crawled out from under the chair and trotted daintily over to him, rubbing up against his legs. The look on her face was distinctly smug again, and Severus glowered down into it.

“Yes, yes, ‘the lady doth protest too much’,” he quoted sarcastically, a sneer curling his lip. “As if you even believe this rubbish yourself. Get out of my rooms, Minerva. I had been planning to get some sleep tonight.”

The cat blinked up at him for another long moment, then rubbed her face against his leg one last time before disappearing. He didn't actually see her leaving the room, but he was certain she was gone. He'd have to recheck his wards again. How did that damn woman always manage to get past them?

Shaking his head, he strode over to his fireplace and tossed the stolen note into the fire the house elves always kept burning for him. Honestly, the things the students gossiped about. Him, dating Edward? As brilliant as the boy was, and it had only taken Severus a bare moment of conversation to realize what an intellect was hiding behind the cursing and sarcasm, he had no interest in a relationship. Why was it so difficult to believe that they were just friends?

Though, and he couldn't stop the smirk that leapt to his face, as far as rumors about him went, this one wasn't so bad. If anything, it was rather flattering. He wasn't blind, after all, and Edward would have been quite the catch if he'd been so inclined. Maybe he'd let this one slide.

He just hoped Edward’s husband never heard about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the future, I have vague plans of one with Harry (from McGonagall's POV), one with Ed, and one with Al. They will likely all take place during _The Children of Snakes_.


	3. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with this little story (it veers wildly out of "cute and funny" territory), but it was a fun little exercise in getting into McGonagall's head, so up it goes!
> 
> Set during chapter six of _The Children of Snakes_ , but it doesn't directly mention what Lockhart did.

_Just Cat Things 3: Harry_

One of Minerva’s favorite things about being a cat Animagus was the ease with which she could comfort young students who didn't know who she was. It was the reason she didn't reveal her form to any student below third year: eleven year olds away from home for the first time tended to get homesick easily, and there were plenty of things they would tell a cat that they wouldn't tell an adult. A small number of students from all of the Houses had revealed terrible home lives or bad experiences with their fellow students, and she never failed to follow up on the information she received.

So when she saw Severus leading the Weasley twins to his rooms along with a very upset Potter, it was only second nature to follow. The man’s door closed in her face before she could get in, but nothing could keep a cat out of where it wanted to be (at least not in Hogwarts—the castle had a certain fondness for felines). She crept into the sitting room through a convenient (and new) cat door, then sidled along the edges of the room until she was able to dart under the couch without Severus seeing her.

She settled down just in time to catch Potter’s parents rotating into view. Fighting back the curiosity about just how he’d contacted Amestris from his fireplace (she’d worm the information out of him later), she listened into the short conversation with approval.

It still amazed her sometimes how competent he was with traumatized children, such a distinct opposition to his normal demeanor that it was like watching an entirely different man. Then again, with a past like his, she supposed he would have found it necessary to learn what to do with them. Even if, as she suspected, he was never quite emotionally prepared to deal with what he learned.

She waited a few minutes after Severus left before she moved, watching the way Potter shied away from even the most incidental of touches from his friends, and then she crawled out from under the couch and jumped neatly into his lap. Potter looked far more startled by her appearance than he should have been, so she finally took matters into her own paws and demanded that the boy pet her.

“I didn’t know Professor Snape had a cat,” Malfoy said from behind her, confused, but when one of the Weasley twins tried to out her as their professor she glared at the boy. It was hard to tell which one was which even as a cat, so she mentally labeled him Gargoyle One before turning her attention back to Potter. Why had he stopped petting her?

He resumed before long, commenting fondly on the markings that identified her particular form, and she made herself comfortable. Potter clearly wasn’t going to say anything else with other people in the room, but she could at least do her best to comfort him.

It took several hours for anything else of interest to occur. Potter petted her diligently, occasionally tracing obscure alchemical symbols into her fur, and she was starting to doze off when the door flew open and Severus swept in.

“I _am_ going to figure out how to keep you out,” Severus snarled at her, the bitter old bat, so she gave him a smug look and increased the volume of her purring.

Then Potter’s parents were rushing over to him, the general dropping to his knees with more calm than she had expected. She didn’t get a chance to consider what that meant, though, as Potter upended her a moment later when he caught sight of the headmaster—and Lockhart. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what happened, so even though most of the company knew who she was, she jumped up on the arm of the couch in front of Gargoyle One and _hissed_. (She was almost certain she heard Gargoyle Two mutter “Get him, McGoogles!”) She’d never liked Lockhart much to begin with, and she’d wanted to get her claws in him from day one. If she hadn’t been surrounded by colleagues and students at this moment, she’d already be digging into the area that would hurt him the worst.

Fortunately, Elric didn’t seem to have the restraint she possessed. She settled herself back into Potter’s side and purred in satisfaction when Lockhart hit the floor. She had rather mixed feelings when he threatened Albus next—the headmaster was an old and dear friend, regardless of the terrible decisions he’d been making lately—but didn’t move from her spot. She sincerely doubted the boy had been serious when he’d asked about killing them, and even if he had been, well, Albus was a big boy. He could protect himself.

The excitement died down soon after that. While Albus called in Aurors (and Poppy) to take care of Lockhart, she gave Potter a final little goodbye nudge and leapt gracefully off the seat. Elric gave her a startled look as she wound herself around his legs, but she darted off before he could pet her. She was going to have fun working alongside that one.

In the meantime, she had to make her displeasure with Albus known. His office was badly in need of a redecoration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next: Ed! 8D Hopefully soonish, to make up for this chapter.


	4. Ed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might actually be my favorite of the Cat!McGonagall stories, mostly because I've found that I sincerely enjoy being in Ed's head.

_Just Cat Things 4: Ed_

Ed stumbled blindly into the teacher's lounge, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips to ward off a headache, located a chair by running into it with his knees, and gracefully turned and collapsed into it. It was just the right size for him to sit with his legs over one arm and prop his head up on the other, and he moaned with relief as he relaxed into the cushions.

He was only a little annoyed when his dramatics were met with the silence of an empty room. Sighing heavily, he opened his eyes to look around and make sure he actually was alone, and discovered a single tabby cat sitting elegantly in the middle of the sofa across from his chair, and looking back at him with what could only be called a skeptical expression. Ed scowled at it.

“What?” he snarled. The cat blinked back at him disdainfully, then dropped its head onto the cushion with a little (and kind of adorable) huffing noise. “Yeah, you and me both.”

Turning his attention away, he fished inside of his jacket for the letter from Hughes that he hadn't had time to read in the morning. Knowing the man as well as he did, he assumed it would be full of well-documented stories of what Elicia had been up to in the past week. He snorted lightly when he pulled it out of the envelope and a smaller envelope dropped onto his chest. Oh, joy. Was he never going to escape from Hughes’s picture obsession? (Roy must've felt this way for _years_ , even before he'd ever met Ed. Ed shuddered at the thought; he wasn't certain he could handle the enthusiastic picture showings for that long. He wondered how he was going to survive it for the rest of his life as it was. Maybe when Roy was Führer he could ban Hughes from ever taking a picture again. He relished in that thought for a long, blissful minute.)

The letter itself wasn't as bad as he was expecting. It started out with the usual excited babble about how beautiful and perfect his wife was and how adorable and perfect his daughter was (with multiple!!! exclamation marks!!! and weird little smiley faces), and then some talk about non-classified military affairs (boring), and then finally he got around to telling Ed how Roy was really doing.

He knew he should feel bad for using his husband’s (that was _still weird_ ) best friend to spy on him, but Roy could be just as stubborn as him some days. He wouldn't want to worry his family about his emotional well-being after what Harry had just gone through, and Ed suspected he would just carry on pretending everything was fine until it was too late to make things better.

Case in point: somewhere in all the talk about his job, Hughes had mentioned how much he was seeing Roy and how the generals were suspicious of his sudden eagerness to work long hours, which meant Roy wasn't sleeping, which meant he was _moping_ , the idiot, as if he didn't know what road that led down. And Ed couldn't even say anything to Roy, because he'd end up revealing his source (because, c’mon, it was Roy), and then Hughes would send him _even more pictures of his daughter_.

Ed must've been frowning at the letter harder than he thought, because the tabby had abandoned her perch on the couch to jump up on Ed’s chair instead. Purring loudly, she put her front paws on his chest and stretched up to butt the top of her head against his chin. Even Ed couldn't hold back a smile at that action, and he reached up with a careful automail hand to gently scratch behind her ears.

“You look familiar,” he murmured softly. “Have you been wandering around with Killer and Hunter? I should warn you off; those two are nothing but trouble.”

The cat seemed to be taking no interest in what he was saying, because she just kept purring and started to knead at Ed's shirt. He gently untangled her claws with a roll of his eyes, then scratched at the side of her neck. The cat flopped over onto her side, eyes lazily half-lidded, and was clearly prepared to lay on his chest for the rest of the day. He decided to let her be for now.

The letter ended with a note that Hughes was sending extra pictures because he suspected Ed was moping almost as much as Roy was (infuriatingly, he probably wasn't even wrong). Damn, he just couldn't win today, could he?

He picked up the envelope full of pictures with a resigned sigh, and pulled the stack out. The very first picture was of Elicia in a snowsuit, building a snowman that reminded him of Breda, and smiling up at the picture taker so brightly and innocently it was actually painful. Ed was about to put it in the back of the stack when he noticed the cat had lifted her head and was sniffing in the picture’s direction curiously. Ed gave her a suspicious look.

“So this is Elicia,” he said eventually. “She's Roy’s best friend’s daughter, and honestly she's just as cute as he always rhapsodizes. She was born on my twelfth birthday, actually. Me’n Al were there, panicking. Let me tell you, if there is one thing I don't envy women, it's childbirth.”

He stopped talking and gave the cat another suspicious look, but she was now licking the top of her paw and didn't seem to be paying attention to him. At least not until he moved on to the next picture (Gracia this time), which she also gave a curious sniff to. Giving a mental shrug, he entertained himself by providing commentary on the pictures he revealed. It was a nice little distraction from worrying about Roy, and he was starting to feel a lot better as he neared the end of the stack.

Which, of course, was when he found the picture of Roy.

He was laying on the floor with Elicia, very seriously directing what appeared to be an army of dolls against an opposing army of teddy bears. Elicia was just as serious as she looked up at him, her mouth opened wide in speech. It was so damn cute (and so damn _Roy_ ) that he felt a lump form in his throat as a vicious surge of longing settled heavily in his chest.

“Meowww?” the cat said loudly, headbutting his chin again.

“Yeah, so that's my husband,” he said, then had to clear his throat as his voice almost broke on the last word. “He had to stay home, obviously, and I just—really miss him. It's kind of funny because I _hated_ him until I was like fifteen—or at least I wanted to, pretty sure I started crushing on him when I was eleven and saw his alchemy for the first time—and now I have a hard time getting to sleep when he's not in the bed. Annoying bastard.”

The cat seemed to be able to sense how distressed he was, because she started kneading at his chest again. Ed let her get away with it as he stared at the picture for longer than was probably healthy. Finally, he took a deep breath and moved on to the next picture, which of course was of Roy again. This time he was playing paper football with Havoc (they'd even rigged up actual goal posts out of what looked like paperclips and toothpicks), but he was glaring at the camera as his football flew through the air directly on target to hit Havoc in the eye. Havoc was looking alarmed himself, in the middle of ducking to avoid getting hit. It was a nice, innocuous little image, and Ed managed a grin as he imagined what Hawkeye’s reaction must've been.

The next few pictures were in similar veins: Roy screwing around at work with a smile and managing to appear as if he didn't miss Ed and Harry at all. Ed tried to dispel his worry, but the camera couldn't hide how tired Roy looked, and he wished for nothing more than to be home curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace with his husband and complaining about college politics.

And the very last picture was the worst.

The entire team must've gone out for drinks, because he could see Fuery, Havoc, and Breda laughing at something in the background, and there was an extra uniform jacket hanging over the back of an empty chair that could only belong to Hawkeye. But the focus of the picture was on Roy, not quite looking as if he was part of the moment. His arm was resting across the back of the chair where Ed would usually be, and he was looking at the empty seat with a gaze that was so bitter and resigned that Ed felt unbidden tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

He sat up so quickly that the cat ended up clawing him as she leapt for safety, but he didn't care as he shoved the pictures viciously (carefully) back in the pocket he'd taken them out from. He scrubbed at his eyes angrily to wipe away pointless tears, and growled at nothing.

“I've got to fucking get Roy out here or something,” he muttered. “He doesn't need to be dealing with his depression right now on top of everything the fuck else.”

There was the distinct feel of magic being cast, and Ed looked up with a start. His wand was already in his hand by the time he realized that what he was seeing was the end of a tabby cat being transfigured back into a human being.

“I believe that can be arranged, Mr. Elric,” Minerva McGonagall said calmly, as if she regularly slept on the chests of young men.

“ _You_ —!” Ed snapped, but couldn't say anything else because he just had _no words_. Minerva raised her eyebrows at him, her amusement palpable. He was going to fucking kill her.

“This Hughes of yours has been in contact with Albus for this very purpose. I believe the Headmaster was going to deny the request.” Minerva gave him a slim, not very pleasant smile. “I'll convince him otherwise.”

She started walking out of the room without waiting for agreement from Ed. He growled and stomped after her, not letting his glare move from the back of her head. Fine. First he'd let her get Roy to him, and _then_ he would kill her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister-in-law had a miscarriage yesterday, so the speed at which I'll be writing the rest of the book 2 is questionable. I'll likely either finish it by the end of the month, or end up with a very clean house and more cat pictures than is healthy.


End file.
